


this is how to make a wish

by iceblinks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aobajousai, Canon Compliant, Dandelions, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, author's hand kink returns with full force, good luck to u mattsun, high levels of horny energy with no actual sexual content, matsukawa issei's somewhat violent subconscious, slightly aggressive flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceblinks/pseuds/iceblinks
Summary: He stands back up like it’s a feature-length film, like the universe has been put on pause to watch the gradual unfolding of joints and bone and muscle. Issei can only watch, helpless, as the stem drops from Hanamaki’s fingertips onto the hot concrete.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	this is how to make a wish

They’re walking home from school when it happens. 

“Hey, look at that.”

Hanamaki crouches down to point at a dandelion on the curb as Issei half-watches, thirty percent indifferent and seventy percent sleep-deprived. His fingers wrap delicately around the stem as he tilts his head sidewise. Assessing. Considering.

“Hanamaki. I have cram school in half an hour.”

Hanamaki rolls the stem between his fingers. “You should skip.”

“Maybe,” Issei says, and he ambles over to sit on the curb. His hands don’t fit into his pockets at this angle and so he lets them rest gently on the edge of the sun-warmed concrete, wrists bent to an almost uncomfortable degree. Hanamaki’s still occupied with the dandelion, tugging gently at the stem before his grip relaxes. Pull, release. Pull, release. 

“The hell are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

“Dude. You’re gonna kill it if you keep doing that.”

Hanamaki digs his thumbnail into the stem. When he drags it downwards the plant goes with him, splitting apart before the edges curl back into themselves. 

“You _murderer,”_ Issei says with as much feeling as the humid air allows for. He wipes his upper lip on his shoulder as the dandelion droops under its own weight, falling dramatically over Hanamaki’s knuckles. The spores brush against the junction between his thumb and forefinger, and Issei leans closer, watching the pull-release of those fingers as the dandelion collapses further into itself. 

Finally, Hanamaki yanks the damn thing out of the ground. Issei watches with fascination as a drop of liquid beads at the edge of the ruined stem before it quivers, overfull, and falls to the concrete.

Hanamaki turns around. His tie is loosened and the first two buttons of his shirt are popped on account of the summer heat. His bubblegum-pink hair sticks up at odd angles, like he’s been running his hands through it all day and forgot to pat it back down afterward. He holds the dandelion between his thumb and forefinger and Issei stares at the smooth curve of his wrist. Thinking. 

“Make a wish,” Hanamaki says, leaning towards him. He brings the dandelion up to Issei’s mouth. If Issei was five centimeters closer he would be able to bite the spores off.

“I don’t know what to wish for,” he says stupidly, fiddling with the ends of his tie.

“Make something up, then.”

He can’t concentrate. It’s the heat, probably—or maybe it’s the way a drop of sweat trails down Hanamaki’s jaw and neck before it disappears beneath his popped collar. He looks back down at those chipped, bitten nails, and he sort of wants to break them as a preemptive measure. 

Issei sucks in a mouthful of thick summer air, watching the subtle tremor of Hanamaki’s hand as he holds the dandelion aloft. His lips almost touch the dandelion when he moves forward to blow on it. He meets Hanamaki’s eyes through the spores as they float off into the heat, and he’s struck with the sudden urge to rip what’s left of the stem to shreds.

“Well,” Hanamaki says in a breezy voice that betrays nothing, “hope that solved all of your problems.”

He stands back up like it’s a feature-length film, like the universe has been put on pause to watch the gradual unfolding of joints and bone and muscle. Issei can only watch, helpless, as the stem drops from Hanamaki’s fingertips onto the hot concrete. And then—he holds out the same hand that he’d held the dandelion in, amusement written clear in his eyes and his lips and the curve of his jaw. 

“C’mon, _Mattsun,”_ he says, smile sickly-sweet in the worst impression of Oikawa Tooru that Issei has ever seen, “you’re gonna be late for cram school.”

Issei clears his throat, every inch of his skin on fire, and says, “I think I’ll skip for today.”

* * *

“Oi. Do you have a hundred-yen coin?”

“Probably. Why?”

Hanamaki motions to a gacha machine outside of the arcade. “Look. Evangelion.”

“I can’t believe I skipped out on an education for this.” 

Hanamaki pokes at the glass. “Look, Misato is right near the bottom. I think I could get her.”

“You know, we could actually go in.”

“Do you have a hundred yen?”

Issei sighs and reaches into his pocket. “Here. You know, they have air conditioning inside.”

“This’ll just be a second. We have air conditioning at home.”

Issei leans into the machine, knocking his head gently against the glass. He sinks down until he’s eye level with a miniature Ayanami Rei. “Must be nice.”

Hanamaki fixes him with an expression somewhere between exasperation and fondness. “I was—never mind.” He pinches the coin between his thumb and forefinger and Issei swallows loudly, the click of his throat echoing down the street. “Come home with me.”

“Just for your AC?”

Hanamaki smiles, rolling the coin between his fingers as he considers the dial. 

“Okay,” Issei says, because he can’t exactly say no. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy being around Hanamaki, just—today, specifically, is different. He can’t explain why, just that the set of Hanamaki’s shoulders and the way the light hits his eyes feel…strange. Untouchable, maybe.

Those thin fingers drop the coin into the slot and wrap around the dial. Issei feels his breath catch.

* * *

Cram school started two hours ago. Issei crosses his legs in Hanamaki’s desk chair and decides that skipping was a good idea. 

“I’m just saying.” Hanamaki tosses a Peanut M&M into the air and catches it in his mouth. His tongue and teeth are stained with artificial blue. Issei sort of wants to lick them, which is pretty gross, but he reasons that Hanamaki brushes his teeth twice a day and doesn’t go around licking shopping carts or door handles. The bacteria in his mouth hasn’t killed him yet, so why should Issei fare any differently?

“Saying what?”

“Are you even listening? Iwaizumi was going easy on him. There’s no way a first-year made him move, even a little bit. He’s too good.”

“Kindaichi’s pretty strong.”

“Yeah, but not strong enough to arm wrestle _Iwaizumi_ and come out on top.”

“Didn’t he lose?” Issei watches Hanamaki bite a green M&M in half. His tongue pokes out to catch the dust on his lips. 

“Yeah, but Iwaizumi’s arm sorta…y’know, _wobbled.”_ Hanamaki throws the other half into his mouth. “I think he was faking. His back wasn’t in it or anything.”

“You’re gonna choke if you keep doing that,” Issei says. Hanamaki is laying flat on his back, head tipped slightly forward by his pillow. His sheets are wrinkled. “I’m not gonna Heimlich you. You’re on your own.”

“And here I was, thinking you’d finally give me mouth-to-mouth.”

“That’s for drowning. The Heimlich is for choking.”

Hanamaki raises an eyebrow. “You’re gonna choke me?”

 _“You’re_ gonna choke. I’m just a bystander.”

“You’re gonna get someone else to choke me so that you can sit back and watch? Damn.”

Issei watches those fine-boned fingers run through his hair and wonders what it would take to replace them with his own. 

“Hey,” Hanamaki says eventually. He rolls up the packet of half-finished M&Ms and shoves it onto his nightstand, where it unrolls slowly next to two miniature figurines of Ikari Shinji. He’s still splayed out on his bed, and he throws an arm over his face. “It’s fucking hot out.”

“At least your AC unit isn’t broken. It’s fine in here.”

“Yeah, but then I look out the window and it’s like I’m back outside. My spirit is burning alive, Matsukawa.”

He drags his other hand through his hair again and it’s not _fair,_ really, that pink has so quickly become the color of desire. Issei likes pink. Inexplicably, he is reminded of the curve of the dandelion stem over Hanamaki’s blush-red knuckles, of the space between them. 

“Hey.” Hanamaki lifts his arm from his face, just enough so that Issei can see one narrowed eye and his thin lips. “Would you kiss me if I was drowning?” 

“I’d kiss anyone if they were drowning,” Issei says pointedly. 

“Even Ushijima?”

“Fuck no. Oikawa would kill me for saving him.”

“Case in point. So you’d kiss me?”

“Well, yeah,” Issei says. He uncrosses his legs, lets his feet fall to the floor. “Why? Are you drowning?”

Hanamaki glances out the window. “I’m on _fire._ Check back in a couple of hours.”

“Alright, then.” Issei reaches for the packet of M&Ms. He sticks two fingers in and pulls out the first one he can find; it’s orange, and he pinches it between his thumb and forefinger until it cracks. “Later.”

  
  


* * *

The thing is—

The thing is that Hanamaki has always been pretty. Not boy-pretty, not like Oikawa Tooru with his swoopy hair and megawatt smile, but still— _pretty._ Thin bangs. Thin lips. His eyes crinkle in a way that makes him seem permanently amused, like he’s always in on a joke that nobody else is. He slouches in that trademark way of all people over a hundred and eighty centimeters who wish they were a couple shorter. _The only thing all of this height is good for is volleyball,_ Hanamaki had said once, after knocking his forehead against the doorframe of Iwaizumi’s house for the fourth time. Issei disagrees, if only because he has been fascinated lately by the curve of Hanamaki’s back as he straightens before he runs onto the volleyball court. 

The heat has somewhat alleviated as the sun sets over the horizon. Issei stretches out on Hanamaki’s porch, watching lazily as Hanamaki tries to keep a volleyball up with as little effort as possible. He’s sweating, even now; Issei thinks of bushfires and wonders if those nails, chipped and bitten halfway to hell, would crack under pressure. 

“Hey, look at that.”

The ball drops to the grass and bounces once, twice, three times before rolling to a gentle stop. Hanamaki is at the junction between his fence and a row of potted plants, and he crouches down so that Issei can only see the curve of his back and the tight stretch of cotton over his shoulders. 

“What?”

Hanamaki stands back up, holding something between his thumb and forefinger. He walks toward the porch a little too quickly to fall into his usual slump, grinning widely. 

“What?” Issei pushes himself up until his legs dangle over the porch, just shy of brushing the soft grass. “What is it?”

Hanamaki crawls onto the porch and sits on his knees, his hands behind his back. A drop of sweat traces its way down his jaw. He is backlit in the harsh red-gold of the summer sun, his hair burnt orange and his skin turned amber. His eyes are half-lidded in the shadow of the awning. He leans closer—his knees touch Issei’s right thigh—and Issei thinks that maybe pink was never his color at all. 

“What,” he says again, hoarsely.

Hanamaki holds out a dandelion in his right hand, slightly limp, a couple of spores already missing. He’s smiling like he _knows,_ and maybe that’s okay. “Make a wish.”

Issei blows it out, and kisses him. 

**Author's Note:**

> on today's episode of what the fuck: i manifested hand kink out of thin air. i was supposed to be studying for finals...i wrote this in two days and usually i am very slow and don't know how to plot things out but like. i was possessed okay. makki hands. also matsukawa is a really interesting character to write i might come back to him
> 
> okay. i hope you're having a good day!! feel free to leave comments/kudos/jjinppang. please. i really want jjinppang rn but like...lockdown...and i ran out of red bean


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